The Nudge

This might be a little different to my usual posts, as I want to talk about the Nudge. If you’ve ever experienced the Nudge you’ll know exactly what I mean, but if you’ve not, please allow me to explain. A university friend of mine almost got himself into a lot of trouble. The kind of

RISE: a collection of poems

My collection of poems about motherhood, family, old friends, spiritual journeys and the sea entitled, ‘RISE’, is available to download for free on Smashwords. https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/988694 I’ve had all my poems sitting together in a folder for a while now. I’d published them in drips and drabs on my blog, but I’d been planning to do

My Contributory Verse

My brain is being an asshole. I don’t mind admitting that at all. Sometimes it does this, and I know it will pass, but while I’m floundering in that deep, dark hole, everything pretty much sucks. On the positive side, I’ve used it as a catalyst for some extremely dark new stories, which I absolutely

Why Write Horror?

“Be happy while you’re living, for you’re a long time dead.” My nana, a small and quiet yet resilient Scottish woman, used to regularly say this phrase to me. My mother often echoed the sentiment as she got older. I’ve been told it’s a Scottish proverb of sorts. Regardless of where it comes from, it

Ripley: Celebrating The Strong Woman

I remember the first time I watched the movie “Aliens”. I was 15 and I watched it in secret from my parents with two friends in their “den”. We watched “Terminator 2: Judgement Day” on the same day. I guess we must have been on a James Cameron kick. I remember being absolutely and totally

Onwards

I am going to be doing something very new this year which challenges me and frightens me, but also invigorates me and excites me. I will be offering workshops for women to help them find their Wild Voice. I wrote this last year when I was just beginning to find my own Wild Voice and

The Waiting Room

Fact or fiction? … You decide. It’s exactly two years to the day that I reacted to some medicine my doctor gave me, passed out, cracked my head open and gave myself a serious concussion. Two years since I almost choked on my own vomit and died. Two years since I visited the Waiting Room

Declaration

I am a writer. I am entirely confident in making this declaration because not only do I write absolutely every single day, but also I do not feel like I have any choice in this. I carry my phone, and a notebook and pen with me everywhere, because when inspiration strikes, it quite literally sinks